there once was a little girl who lived in her own world |
a misfit to others but |
there was something in the way |
her hands held her pen close to her chest |
or the way the paper overflowed with scribbles |
and the look of pure satisfaction when the words flowed |
from her heart to her hands to the paper |
<3
- JoinedAugust 23, 2013
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3 Reading Lists
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- 7 Stories